


Dance Macabre

by lonelyhoodieguy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Magic, Original Character(s), Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7057876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyhoodieguy/pseuds/lonelyhoodieguy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dark magic student Renzo has almost everything he could ask for--great friends, an AMAZING magic school, and the entire world laid out for him to explore when he graduates. Things change fast, however, when a Rift, a crack in the fabric of space, opens in Merlon's Academy for Mages. When Renzo survives a grave encounter with the Rift, he is sent as an envoy to investigate the multitude of other Rifts that are opening all over the world. With the help of friends and allies he makes along the way, Renzo soon learns that the Rifts may only be a harbinger of darker times to come...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance Macabre

**Author's Note:**

> WOW I'm going out on a limb here. Little nervous! Figured I may as well post this wip story somewhere so I can maybe get some suggestions/constructive criticism/whatever else so I can know what I'm doing well, what I need to do better, etc. So if you see this story and you have something to say, please, please say it, because any kind of feedback would mean a lot, as long as it's not super-negative, I guess. Constructive criticism is okay, but I don't really want hate. Hope you enjoy!

He woke up. Heavy breathing. Chest rising and falling as he lay in some grassy area. The sky above him was painted with incredible hues of pink and purple. Trees. He could see trees.

He was panting. _They were gone they were all gone and it was him oh gods how was he alive._

He lay there, just breathing in and out. Inhale, exhale. Through the mess of limbs above his head, he could see it. The Rift, grinning at him with its terrible, black smile. It seemed to stretch further and further. It was looking at him.

_(oh my gods above how could this happen why am i here how did i get out how why what)_

His thoughts rushed. The wind blew, grass tickling the sides of his face.

A low growl. Behind him. He jumped up and spun around to face the creature, whatever terrible creature it could be.

_(its coming to finish me off oh no oh gods please no)_

The creature had the appearance of a wolf. Pure black fur, white markings running up and down its body. Red eyes. He reached for his belt and snapped out (the book the book the book) a black tome. An evil tome. The creature lunged. He fired a spell at it. One shot. Dead center.

The creature fell over. Dead. Black blood poured out of the spell’s impact zone.

_(oh so much blood the blood of my friends where are they now? ahahahah)_

He began to laugh. He laughed for (so long) before it devolved into crying, and finally into inarticulate howls. He ran full speed out of the forest he was in, stumbling over his tired and aching feet, and he didn’t look back. He clutched the evil, evil book.

\- - -

The bartender was working 2nd. Soon he’d be off duty, and he could finally go home and relax. It had been a hell of a day. Tending a bar was a thankless job. Dealing with the lost cause alcoholics, the brawls, the general dregs to society all mingled together in a drunken stupor. It wasn’t easy. He hated it. Just today, there had been two cases of harassment on the part of the waitresses, one fight, and three vomits. The bartender just wanted to go home. He poured another drink.

This one was going to a large and very depressed man. Another day, another sob story about losing a wife or a husband. Another tale of being attacked by monsters in the dead of night. Another telling of horrific things, of watching their family be ripped apart by the beasts or having their kids suddenly disappear when they went out for firewood.

The world had been an absolute nightmare since that godsdamned rift opened up in the middle of the sky. Overnight, the world was overrun with monsters of varying shapes and sizes, each one more terrifying and dangerous than the last.

The official governments hadn't been able to do anything. Librus was in ruin. The Mages’ School was the only organization that seemed to still be on its feet. Pisca’s obsession with city walls had paid off. They were holding up well, but there was famine and disease running rampant. Rumor had it that some Piscean cities had already resorted to cannibalism. Capricius was holding off the monsters fairly well, but its army was dwindling, especially after the war with Aguas. Taur was alright; its frigid climate and tiny population were making things slightly easier. Scorpis had been all but abandoned. You were lucky if you were able to get to Geminia, what with Cances in such a rough state. The dwarves in Geminia had welcomed the human and elf refugees with open arms all the same, which was incredibly strange for such a xenophobic people. The one thing that all of the 12 countries had in common was that they were struggling and in dire need of a miracle. Some way to rid themselves of the beasts and monsters that roamed the land and never seemed to stop.

The bartender personally thought that it was the end of the world.

It was awful. _Understatement of the year, he thought dryly._

But what could you do? People just weren’t able to fight against this. Those who did wound up dead, missing, or came back with scars far too deep for any magic to heal.

The bartender left the sobbing man to his drink and crossed the counter to a dirty-paned window. The high walls of the Caprician capital were blocking any view that the bartender had of whatever wasteland lay outside. But he could see the Rift. The big one, hanging in the sky. A dark crack in the heavens turned up like a terrible grin, bathing the world in an unearthly light.

There was something on the other side of that Rift, the bartender just knew it. The governments had kept everything they knew about it and all the other rifts from the people. “To keep them safe”, they had said. It was all a load of bullshit. The governments knew that it was pointless to fight. They were trying to keep everyone from panicking and bringing the end of the world even FASTER.

The bartender tore his eyes away from the Rift. It was staring at him.

The governments had tried to stop it, of course. They’d done everything in their power, but the rifts were simply not of this world, and they couldn’t be brought down by anything that ordinary people had to throw at it. They had run out of options fairly quickly.

They had even sent people inside of the big one. A small group of somewhere around fifteen people. All pretty young. They had been sent into the Rift and never came back. After they went, everything really went to hell. Things only got worse from there.

Oh well. No great loss.

Gods, he wanted a smoke. He yelled out at one of the senior waitresses, “Hey, Lissa, can you cover for me for a minute?"

Lissa perked up at the sound of his voice and swiveled her head. Continuing to write the orders of a group of 'valued patrons' (that seemed to be staring at her chest), she responded, “Sure! Hold on a sec!"

He threw his washrag into the sink behind the counter and pushed a set of wooden doors open to go out back.

Using a small flame spell to light cigarette, the bartender leaned against the wall of the establishment and watched the bare cobblestone pathway that led into the city. Archers stood in tall towers on either side of the main gate, always on the lookout for the monsters that would inevitably attack.

Both archers drew their bows quickly before one of them yelled something that caused them both to lower their weapons. One yelled down to a guard below, armed with a curved sword and traditional Caprician armor. The guard looked surprised for a moment, and hesitated before crossing the gate to a large lever. The guard strained at the lever, and the doors to the city opened up with a heavy creak.

In stumbled a young boy, probably no more than seventeen. He was wearing the robes of a powerful mage, one specializing in dark magic, by the looks of it. The regal and flowing robes were in a tangled mess behind the boy as he tripped over his own feet into the city. The guard pulled the lever to close the gate as soon as the boy was safely inside.

The boy stopped as the gates closed and looked around wildly. He was breathing heavily and his light gray eyes were darting back and forth, looking at each small building and the handful of people going about their business.

He took a few more steps before collapsing into a heap of black, gray, and purple robes on the street. His black hair was in an unruly tangle, and he seemed to be clutching a thick black book. No one seemed to be paying the boy any attention.

 _Gods,_ the bartender thought, _are people really this rude? This is a kid!_ The bartender sighed and dropped his cigarette on the ground, before stamping it out, leaving a smoldering pile of ash in the brown dirt. Still, nobody was coming to help the obviously distraught boy. It seemed that the bartender would have to do this on his own.

He emerged from the shadows between the bar and another building, into the twilit street. Coming closer, the bartender could see that the boy was verging on hyperventilation, and he was softly sobbing, pausing every few seconds to wipe his face with a black sleeve. He knelt to see the boy better.

“Hey,” the bartender said softly. “You okay?"

The boy spared a quick glance at the bartender before silently covering his face with his sleeve and give a slight head shake. _What a stupid question,_ the bartender thought, _of course he’s not okay._

“Sorry. Do you need anything?"

The boy sniffled and slowly pulled his sleeve away from his face. His eyes were red and puffy. He gave the bartender an inexplicable look before swallowing hard. “I-I’m sorry… Sorry…” he said.

“Don’t be sorry,” the bartender said. “It’s rough out there. But you’re okay, so that’s good."

The boy ran a hand through his hair. The bartender could see tears welling up in the boy’s eyes again. “No! It’s… It’s not good, I should be dead, it’s…” He covered his mouth. “Oh gods…"

The bartender gave an awkward sigh and looked around. He wasn’t a very good grief counselor. “What do you mean? You shouldn’t be dead."

The boy turned his head around to face the Rift. He looked at with a sort of panic. “No… No, no, no, no… They should have just killed me! I should be dead!” He began shaking.

“Hey,” the bartender said, a fit more firmly. “I don’t know who they are, but no, they shouldn’t have killed you. Don’t talk like that."

The boy swiveled back around to the bartender with a weak fire in his voice. “No! You don’t understand! I have to die for this to end!"

“What?"

The boy simply pointed to the Rift, hanging still in the sky behind him, cold desperation dripping from his face. “I have to get back in there! That’s the only way to stop this!"

“Wait, hold on. The Rift? Why the hell would you want to go into that thing? People died in there, kid."

“I know! T-that’s… That’s why I have to go back…!"

The boy held his face in his hands and began to sob again.

The bartender was taken aback by what the boy had just said. Back? He had been in there? It had been months since they had sent people into the Rift. The bartender looked to the Rift and stared at it. Could anyone survive that? What the hell was in there?

He turned gingerly back to the boy, broken on the ground in front of him.

“What’s your name, kid?"

The boy sniffled and appeared to compose himself. He sat up straighter. “Renzo. Sixteen years old. Seventh year at Merlon’s Academy for Mages. Dark magic branch,” he recited. “That’s how they teach us to introduce ourselves at school.” The boy swallowed. “Is the school okay?"

“Oh, the Academy?” The bartender asked. The boy Renzo seemed a bit more relaxed. This was a good sign. “I think they’re holding up. They’ve put some kind of sphere around the school to protect it. I dunno the details."

Renzo sighed, relieved. “That’s good,” he said. He wiped his eyes one more time and stood up, still clutching the black book close to his chest.

“I’m sorry…” He said, “Sorry I made you worry about me. This is… Capricius, right?"

“Uh, yeah,” the bartender answered. "The capital. Haitaka."

The boy thought on that for some time before finally speaking up again. “I guess…” He muttered, sadness washing over his face once more, “There’s probably no point anymore…"

“No point in what?” The bartender asked.

The boy’s brow furrowed and he looked at the ground.

“Look, I’m just confused as hell right now, kid,” the bartender said.

“Oh!” The boy snapped out of his thoughts. “Sorry. Um… I dunno how to explain…” He laughed a bit, an uneasy laugh. The type of brightness one gets shortly before bursting into hysteric tears.

There was a long silence between the two. The bartender knew he had to help this kid somehow, but he seemed pretty inconsolable. The best thing would probably be to wait for him to open up on his own.

“Uh… Come on. Lemme take you inside. We’ll get you something to eat."

“Ah… Okay,” Renzo said. He hesitated for a second before adding, “I’ll tell you what happened. I… Think I’m calming down now."

The bartender waved the boy onward and started toward the front doors of the bar.

“But…” The boy continued, “Yeah. I was… I was one of the ones they sent into the rift."

“Wh-What?” The bartender cried incredulously as he held the door open for the boy. “Gods. That’s rough."

Renzo silently shuffled through the door and made his way through the drunks who were now staring bullets at him, very obviously wondering what a boy so young was doing in a place like this.

“Uh, come on. I’ll get a place cleared out for you,” The bartender said.

He gestured Renzo over to a stool on the far end of the bar, away from the ruffians that were concentrated around a man taking shot ofter shot in the middle of the place. Renzo sat down and hefted the black book up onto the counter while the bartender took his place back behind the counter.

“Okay, are you settled? Do you need anything else? I said I was gonna get you some food, but… Not unless you want it."

“I’m fine, thank you,” Renzo said with a weak smile. “I don’t have much of an appetite."

There was another small bit of silence. Or it would be silent if not for the slurred background noise of the bar patrons cheering on the man doing shots.

“Uh, I’ll start from the beginning,” Renzo said. “Is there anything you want to know before I start?"

“Well, yeah,” the bartender replied. “Lots of stuff. But you seem kinda… Distressed. So just- Tell whatever you’re comfortable with."

“Well, I'll try to cover everything, then,” Renzo said. “But we may be here a while. It’s a long story."


End file.
